


Affection from Bitterness

by DulciusExAsperis



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Frycest, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:32:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DulciusExAsperis/pseuds/DulciusExAsperis
Summary: Evie's strained relationship with her brother morphs bitterness into something else when she is badly injured during a mission.  Jacob quickly realizes how much his sister means to him, which puts a very different kind of strain on their relationship.  WARNING: Consensual adult incest.  Don't like, don't read.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IGotTooManyOTP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IGotTooManyOTP/gifts).



> So, this kind of came out of nowhere... and I'm a little ashamed to indulge in this guilty pleasure. But hey... life's short. Write what you want.
> 
> I hope it came out okay, but please give me feedback about what works and what doesn't!

"I'm going," Evie announces as she steps into the train car where her brother is lounging on the sofa.

"Why?" Jacob quickly snaps. "Because Aleck asked you to?"

" _Yes,_ because he asked me to! Because he needs me to. Because it needs to be done."

"Why does it need to be done by  _you,_ Evie?"

Slightly slack-jawed, Evie stares at her brother.

"Jacob. Stop it," is all she can manage. Faced with his brooding silence, she adds, "You're not Father."

"Neither are you!"

"Don't you  _dare_ raise your voice to me, Jacob! We're not teenagers anymore. You owe me respect."

"I owe you  _nothing._ "

The anger in his voice is startling. So much so that it is now Evie's turn to go silent. But this lasts only a brief moment before she turns and leaves the train car and moves to exit the train, which is currently parked at the station.

Whether Jacob likes it or not, it's time.

First, as Evie steps off the train, she pulls her hood up over her head to reduce her risk of being identified. She takes slow steps out of the station, then grapples up to the roof. Her mind is distracted, though, and she nearly slips as she makes her otherwise graceful reach for the edge of the roof.

 _Why can't he just support me for once?_ Evie wonders, sighing as she dusts herself off and steadies herself. But the thought fades as she makes her move toward the next building.

The mission begins slowly enough. All she has to do is sneak into Blighter territory near the docks to loot some cable. A dangerous mission, considering how heavily guarded the area is. But it's for the greater good. Then, she can continue her search for the Piece of Eden. But first… the mission for Aleck.

Evie glides with little effort from rooftop to rooftop until she reaches the area near the docks. It takes some time, as the train station where they'd stopped was on the other side of London, but she reaches the restricted area just as the sun begins to set. She has planned it this way. Dark enough to help her fade into the background, but light enough for her to see and fight as necessary. Still, she's hoping this won't be necessary. Get in, get out, return the cable to Aleck. Simple enough.

Uncharacteristically, Evie is startled by the sound of a Blighter rounding the corner in front of where she's taken cover. She is well cast in shadow, but the noise catches her off guard, and she quickly realizes that her distraction has been caused, once again, by thoughts of Jacob.

Silently cursing herself for her sentimental weakness, she extends her arm, firing a hallucinogenic dart at the fire pit a few meters away. Shortly, three guards are in combat. Evie holds her breath until they each drop to the ground. Approaching cautiously, she loots the bodies and finds – thankfully – a set of keys in one of their pockets.

 _Perfect,_ she thanks the gods.  _Just what I need._

But there are no chests in sight, and as she slips back into the shadows, she sees two more guards approaching.

 _Shit,_ Evie thinks, cursing the turn of her luck.

Again, she fires a dart at the fire close by. The guards aren't close enough, though, and by the time they discover the bodies Evie has left behind, the effect has worn off. She's out of darts now, leaving her with only her cane sword for protection and combat. Then, she waits.

But the guards separate, spreading out in different directions, calling out expletives and warning the assassin of her impending punishment. In that moment, just as a guard rounds the corner and spots her in the dim light of his lamp, Evie sees the chest at the very edge of the river, right on the dock. Just out of reach.

The guard shouts as soon as he sees her, summoning his partners in crime, who surround her quickly. She's backed into a corner, but thankfully, she has enough time to draw her weapon and use it to attack the original guard, full-force.

 _Jacob would be so ashamed,_ she thinks.  _He wouldn't have gotten caught._

This third moment of distraction costs her the advantage of having the larger weapon, as the second guard jumps in and knocks it from her hands with his own shorter blade. She can tell he's stronger than her, but normally, she is more nimble and capable of taking on four or five opponents at once. The break in her focus, however, has taken away that advantage as well.

Still, she's grateful to at least be left with the brass knuckles given to her by her brother that past Christmas. They'd been gifted to Jacob by their father on his eighteenth birthday. At twenty-five, he passed them along to Evie. At first, she'd tried to refuse them, arguing that their father gave them to  _him_ for a reason. She wasn't meant to have them. But of course, as stubborn as he was, he argued back.

"You need to protect yourself," Jacob had said, in a rare gesture of tenderness. "I don't want you to get hurt."

The softness in his voice had caught her off guard and lowered her defenses, dissolving her will to bicker with him as she normally would have. He meant these words. She could tell by his tone of voice, but also by the subtle excess of fluid in his eyes that pooled near the corners, threatening to drop onto his cheek. The tears never fell, though, which didn't surprise Evie in the least. Jacob would never cry. Not even when her father died. He'd only sworn to avenge him.

As Evie swings her arm back to assault the first guard, who had moved in close to her, she once again thinks of her brother and the invaluable gift he had given her. She gets one good, strong hit in, right on the Blighter's jaw, knocking him to the ground, before everything goes black.

"Evie!" she finally hears Jacob scream, shocking her awake.

What she doesn't know is that he's been screaming for minutes now, trying desperately to wake her. The sting on her cheek tells her that he'd needed to slap her to stir her into consciousness.

"Fuck," Evie curses, trying to sit up.

But Jacob pushes down on her shoulder, holding her to the ground, as he stares at her with his brow furrowed.

"Don't move," he orders, pressing harder as she squirms.

"Get off me!" she shouts, flailing to shove him away, but unable to make solid contact with anything but his stone, muscular forearms. He says nothing, eyes all cold steel and seriousness, until she calms, asking him at last, "Did they get the cable?"

"Damn his cable!" Jacob shouts loudly, releasing the pressure on his sister's shoulders.

"Jacob!" she screams back. "Did. They. Get. The. Cable?" Again, he says nothing, and again, Evie cries, "Jacob, did they get it?!"

"Bloody Hell, Evie Frye! No, they didn't get the bloody cable!"

"Where is it?"

"It's probably still in the chest on the dock."

" _Probably?!"_ Evie snaps, sitting up at last, despite how dizzy this makes her.

"Well, all the guards in the area are dead. Does that relieve your concerns, dear sister?"

At last, Jacob's sister sighs and falls onto her back, her eyes dropping closed as the world spins around her.

Suddenly, Jacob's hands are somewhere strange, sending a tingle up Evie's spine. The pressure on her hips makes her body jolt. Then, she feels the pain, shooting through her gut and radiating outward. When she finally looks down, she finds blood soaking her front, seeping all the way through the front of her coat.

 _That can't be good,_ she thinks, staring in disbelief.

The pain continues to scream through her, but she doesn't make a sound, even as it freezes her in place.

"We need to get you back to the train," Jacob says, quickly realizing that the shock is wearing off for his sister to feel the agony rushing through her body.

She has no energy left to argue, stunned by the pain, so all she says is, "Get the cable," before blacking out again.

* * *

Evie wakes on the train, and as soon as her eyes are opened, she sees her brother flying towards her like a hawk going in for its prey. But the look in his eyes is not that of a predator. The look is that of a broken man, wounded deeply.

"Evie," he breathes, hands shaking as he clenches them into anxious fists and leans over her.

"Jacob?" she croaks, her throat dry from a lack of hydration in the hours she's been unconscious. "The cable?"

"I swear on my life, Evie Frye, if you say 'cable' one more bloody time, I'll—"

"It's safe," says a voice coming from a few meters away.

It's Henry, and Evie is instantly calmed. She closes her eyes, and Jacob's fury dissolves quite suddenly as he sees the concern fade from the radiant features of his sister's face. Despite his anguish regarding her obsession with Aleck's seemingly reckless and suicidal missions, the peace that she's found makes Jacob's anger soften into relief.

As he sees Jacob lean in slightly, unconsciously longing to savor his sister's calmed expression, Henry says softly, "I'll take my leave. Please, if you need anything, call for me."

And then, the man is gone, leaving the twins alone in the train car, but Jacob barely notes his words anyway, mostly ignoring him. He doesn't need help to take care of his sister. He's always done it alone, and he will continue to do so.

Evie's eyes are still closed as her brother's hands unconsciously find her hips again, but she is startled enough by the tenderness and intimacy of his touch that her eyes snap open. The young man jumps back slightly, equally startled by Evie's reaction.

"S-Sorry," he stammers, dropping his gaze away from her eyes.

First, Evie stares at his face, finding shame and embarrassment there, but somehow, Jacob's hands are frozen in place. Then, she finds herself warmed, her temperature seeming to rise by several degrees as she realizes she is only in a fresh, loosely fitting undershirt. When she looks down at her hands, she sees that this garment, though it has recently clothed her, is also soaked with her blood. The large, angry red splotch spreads across her entire abdomen, and her brother's hands are covering some of it. But where his hands are resting, there is no pain. The blood may have spread there, but the wound is near her navel, and he has been careful not to touch it, for fear of adding to her agony.

But the sensations of pain are greatly overshadowed by the tingling sensation that has spread through Evie's stomach.

After soaking in the unusual sight of her brother's intimate physical contact, Evie gains the courage to speak.

"Jacob… Look at me."

He lifts his gaze slowly, afraid, and when his eyes meet hers, she feels his hands begin to shake.

"Jacob…" she says gently, trying to get him to speak.

Tears – the first real tears she's ever seen him shed – dribble, hot and terrified, onto Jacob's cheeks before he manages to choke out, "I thought you were going to die."

Evie swallows hard, a wave of conflicting emotions flooding her. How dare he cry now! How can he? He'd resented her for her devotion to the mission and adamantly stated so. He'd declined to assist her. He'd called her a fool. Now, he grants himself permission to cry? He should be livid! The hard-headed bastard should be angry with her, not falling to pieces in front of her as she lay bleeding on the sofa.

His hands are still carefully resting on her hips as he remains kneeling by her side, and it makes it difficult for her to feign anger, but she manages it anyway.

"You should be disappointed that I didn't," she quips bitterly.

His head jerks up again, allowing her to see his eyes, red and puffy from his unbridled crying, and Evie instantly feels remorse for her words. But aren't they true? Jacob has never supported her. The only thing he's ever done to protect her – not that she needs protecting – was to give her their father's brass knuckles. It was the only moment she could think of, since their days in primary school, where he had shown her a gesture of caring. Of course, the cruelty was not given in a one-way channel. It was received and given back with equal fury. He didn't resent her, Evie quickly realized. They resented each other for their differing views on life, and their greatly differing priorities.

"Jacob," Evie blurts, as soon as Jacob opens his mouth to try to speak. "I…"

"No, don't," he coughs, wiping his eyes with his left hand, the one not equipped with his new pair of brass knuckles.

Jacob wants to stand. Wants to leave. Wants to hide his shame and tears. But his legs are jelly, and his knees offer no support. His hands are still frozen in place. Evie stares down at them. Her expression is exceedingly apologetic, but Jacob can't bear to look at her, so he doesn't notice.

Then, Jacob, in too much emotional agony to notice that his sister hasn't tried to push his hands away, chokes out, "I could never wish you dead."

He is even more ashamed to find that his voice comes out quiet and weak, quite in contrast to his usual confident, commanding tone. But Jacob doesn't move until he feels Evie's abdomen tighten as she tries to sit up. Only then do his reflexes kick in to send his left hand flying up to hold her shoulder down against the cushions.

"Rest," he says, but the order becomes empty as his voice cracks.

Still, Evie obeys him – for once – lying back. She dares herself to look at him, pained by the only expression of true, deep emotion she has ever seen him display, and finds that he has begun to cry again. This time, his chest is heaving. Luckily, the loud, strangled cries of anguish that escape at night when he's alone do not come out, and he remains silent, save for the sound of his quiet, gasping breaths.

Part of her wants to scold him for his weakness.  _But is it such?_  she wonders. Could this be an expression of strength? She thinks back on their collective experiences, and realizes that she has never offered him a display of caring or gentleness in all their years. She wants to believe that her anger, her bitterness, is his fault, but she realizes, lying there watching him cry, that the refusal to be vulnerable is mutual. She is just as much at fault as he.

So her bitterness fades, as she realizes the unfairness of her own instinctual emotional reaction, and an intense, foreign feeling of affection floods in.

"Jacob…" she repeats, her voice soft.

Jacob's silence breaks. He sobs aloud, his head falling weakly to her breast. He is conflicted. Part of him is broken by the tenderness in her voice, and part of him is comforted by it. In the end, he calms, but the sobbing continues.

"Jacob… Oh, Jacob."

Evie feels a knot in her throat as shame fills her gut. How could she be so harsh? How could she be so merciless and unforgiving? How could she possibly be so daft as to fail to recognize his… What was it? Love?

He has never been kind. This is true. But he has always, always been  _there._ And she realizes that this has been enough. Enough to protect her, enough to get her through their parents' deaths, enough to keep her going. And she loves him for it.

"Sweet Jacob," Evie squeaks out, her own voice cracking. Tears form in her eyes as she reaches down to thread her fingers through his soft brown hair and stroke his scalp as she whispers, "My sweet, sweet Jacob."

Another loud sob escapes him, and she nearly jumps from its volume. She is stunned by this display.

"Please, Jacob…" she tries.

She wants to tell him not to cry, but she knows from experience that he needs this. She doesn't want him to bottle it up like their father. She doesn't want him to burst with rage when his emotions take advantage of him. She wants him to feel comfortable expressing himself. (Though she knows he doesn't, and that he's likely horrified by his own fit of emotion.) She wants him to feel safe with her.

So Evie keeps stroking her brother's hair back, feeling her heart swell until she thinks it might burst from the uncontrollable wave of fondness she is feeling. She has dammed it up so well for so long that now, crushed by the weight of his unbridled affection, that she can no longer hold it back. The raging water of her love crashes through her, and her tears finally fall.

Then, she leans up, her neck straining, and presses her lips to the top of his head, leaving them there until she feels his body heaving another mighty sob.

"Oh, Jakey. It's alright. I'm alright."

She hasn't called him this since primary school. She'd first used the nickname to infuriate and taunt him, but the day she finally noticed that his blush was not of anger, but of embarrassment, she retired the pet name and never used it again.

"Evie," he howls, broken and melted by the return of his affection. "I thought I was going to lose you."

She has never treated him with tenderness, but as he reflects on their life, as Evie has been doing, he realizes that she has always been there, and always wanted the best for him.

"You haven't lost me, Jacob," she assures him, stroking his sweaty, tousled hair to calm him. "I'm right here."

Then, he slides his arms around her torso, careful to keep his touch far away from her bleeding wound, moving his head up to press his cheek against the warm skin of his sister's neck. The woman continues to stroke his hair and begins to rub his back, causing his sobs to slow nearly to a stop.

They stay silent for a long while, until Jacob's breathing has slowed and he has settled enough to speak.

"Do you love him?" he asks, voice broken and strained.

"Pardon?" she returns, obviously confused by his question.

"Aleck," Jacob says, his tone suddenly strong enough to be firm as he lifts his head to look at her, eyes exceedingly puffy and red. "Do you love him?"

Evie blinks at him, stunned.

"I don't know what you're on about."

"Don't play stupid, Evie. I know you—"

"You know nothing," Evie asserts, interrupting him. "And if you think that I feel anything other than platonic, friendly affection for him, then your insanity must be caused by one of Starrick's concoctions."

Jacob rubs his eyes, taking in her words, then meets her gaze again, searching for a lie. He is greatly surprised to find none. He may not know how to read or handle his sister's emotions – this has been made quite obvious over the years – but he knows when she's lying. (Mostly because she's not very good at it.)

"Then why are you so devoted to him?" Jacob finally presses, needing reassurance.

"I'm not devoted to  _him,_ Jacob. I'm devoted to the cause. Can't you see that?"

"All I see is you putting yourself in harm's way – risking your  _life_  – to do his bidding."

"Then what you see is not reality."

"Yes, well…"

He is left with no argument, only confusion.

Then, after some tense silence, Jacob asks softly, "Evie?"

Hearing the way he says her name, without irritation or contempt, makes Evie soften.

"Yes, Jacob."

"Have you ever loved me?"

This makes Evie freeze. She has, of course, never been asked this before, and knows not how to answer.

"You're my brother," is all she can come up with for a response, and it comes out empty and hollow.

"But have you ever loved me?"

"You're family," Evie says, as if this explains everything.

"But do you  _love me?_ " he presses anxiously, his eyes drying and turning back to steel.

"Do I, or have I?"

"Either," Jacob answers. "Both."

Evie sighs, looking down at his hands, which are still sewn to her hips. Her throat tightens, preventing the answer – the truth – that she has just barely come to terms with, and all she can do is slide her hands gracefully over his, leaving them there. Hers are soft, despite the dirty work she's always done, but his are calloused and dry. Still, she likes the feel of them. And he, though startled by it, likes the feel of hers.

Just when Evie thinks her brother will reject this silent answer, he boldly pushes up the hem of her shirt, just enough to expose a small sliver of soft, pale skin. He rubs small circles over her hips with the rough fingertips of his thumbs, and the intimate touch makes her gasp quietly in surprise. He has accepted – and more importantly, understood – her answer.

"Me too," Jacob tells her, replying to the question she could not bring herself to ask.


	2. Chapter 2

On the evening that Evie is finally stable enough to be transported by carriage to their flat in Whitechapel, the twins make their way home. Since Jacob refuses to leave his sister's side, Henry has to drive them, but Jacob is able to carry Evie up the stairs to the third floor by himself.

"Jacob, I can walk. Put me down!" Evie whines, as soon as he lifts her from the carriage, but he simply holds her close and ascends the stairs.

"Not a chance, princess," he chuckles, knowing he's strong enough to overpower her and keep her in his arms.

Evie huffs but reluctantly ceases to argue. Soon, she is lying in her bed, with Jacob standing beside her, looking down at her for any signs of her pain or discomfort.

The flat the two share only has one bedroom, so they each have their own bed in the room. Often, Jacob sleeps on the couch in the main room, not wanting to wake Evie when he comes back from his late-night adventures, after she's gone to sleep. Other nights, he sleeps on the train. Thus, most of the time, Evie has the room to herself.

This night, however, Jacob is glued to her side, refusing to turn away for more than a few moments.

"I'm fine," Evie protests, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

He can tell she's in pain, so he ignores her lies.

If she was being truthful, Evie would have to admit that his presence comforts her.

"Lay down," Jacob orders, when she tries to sit up in bed. Once she's obeyed him, he adds, "Don't strain yourself. Have some water."

He hands her a glass of water and offers her an usual, encouraging smile. He holds the glass a little longer than necessary when she reaches for it, her hands resting on top of his.

"Jacob?" Evie finally questions, looking at him with concern as she noticed his gentle, glazed-over stare.

"Huh? Oh. Right."

He legs go of the glass, and she nearly drops it, spilling a small amount on the top of her blouse, over her chest.

As he watches this happen, Jacob's eyes go wide. The blouse is white, suddenly see-through, and he quickly notices the curve of her breasts. Tearing his eyes away, he swallows hard and feels how dry his throat is. Luckily, this gives him the perfect opportunity to take the glass from his sister, take a swig from it, and set it down on her bedside table.

"I'll, um… get you another shirt," he mumbles, turning away.

He returns from the other side of the room with a deep green blouse. Jacob hasn't told her this (of course), but it's his favorite. It makes her blue eyes fade slightly to hazel, and he likes this. After handing the garment to the beautiful woman on the bed, he turns away again, allowing her an appropriate amount of privacy to change her shirt.

As soon as he hears a loud, "Ouch!" though, Jacob instantly turns to find his sister quite topless, holding her stomach, which is covered in both bright, fresh blood and dark, dried blood.

"Oh, Evie," Jacob cries, rushing to her to ease her back onto the bed. "It's alright. Just lie back. I'll get you a blanket."

"But I—" she tries to protest, but her brother will have none of it.

He almost –  _almost_ – doesn't notice how firm and pert her breasts are, bulging just slightly out of her undergarment.

Jacob nearly runs back to the other side of the room with the blanket he's retrieved from his own bed, rushing to return to her side. Carefully, he drapes the fabric over her body, covering the mouth-watering display of her chest and pale skin. Before he can shut out the thought, he is imagining how soft her skin might feel against his stubbled cheek.

He tears himself quickly from this fantasy and redirects his attention to his sister's comfort. Although she finds herself feeling a bit strange about having been so exposed to her brother, Evie feels something warm in her stomach spreading once again, just as it had done when Jacob's hands were on her hips. It spreads further through her body when her brother kneels beside the bed and takes her hand in both of his.

"Jacob?" Evie asks gently.

When he doesn't reply, simply staring at her with a warm expression, she wiggles her fingers playfully against his palms, startling him back to reality.

"Hmm?" he hums. "You alright?"

Evie nods and offers him a forced smile. It does hurt, especially since she's sat up and taken her shirt off, but she ignores the pain, wanting to comfort him and calm his worry.

"No, you're not," Jacob counters with a sigh, nudging her shoulder lightly with his forehead. "Don't be such a bloody shit, Evie."

He's sure this will make her laugh, and it does.

Once her laughter has faded, she says, "Alright. It hurts. But I am okay. It'll pass. Henry stitched me up well."

There is a pang of jealousy that coils in Jacob's stomach as he thinks of his friend's hands on his sister's bare abdomen, and he can't explain the thought away. It was necessary. She was going to bleed out. He saved her life, and Jacob wasn't skilled enough to do it himself. But he curses himself for not knowing how to stitch up a wound, wishing it had been him who could have taken care of his sister on his own. He wishes he could say, 'We don't need anyone.' But they do.

"What's the matter?" Evie asks, seeing the look of concern on her brother's face as he looks down at the spot where the thick blanket is covering her abdomen.

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing."

She looks at him with an expression of equal concern, saying, "Jacob… Tell me."

"It's nothing," the man insists, but he can't lift his gaze to look at Evie.

"Please, tell me what's bothering you."

"Bloody Hell you are stubborn," Jacob grumbles, finally looking up at her. "I just hate that I needed someone else to help take care of you is all."

"What do you mean?"

"Henry. Stitching you up and all. That should've been me. But I'm a useless piece of shit, and I'm incapable of—"

"Jacob Frye!" Evie cries, wanting to sit up but unable to do so. "Don't you say such things!"

"I shouldn't have needed another bloke to take care of my own sister!"

"People need friends, Jacob. No one can do everything themselves."

"Yeah, well… I wish I could."

Sighing, Evie asks, "Why?"

"Because I care about you, alright? Bloody Hell. I want to be a good brother, like Father would have wanted."

"Jacob… You are a good brother…"

But Evie knows there is both truth and untruth in the statement. In some ways – always being there, always wanting what was best for her – he was a wonderful brother. In other ways – mostly, his insistence on verbal abuse and conflict – he was rubbish as a brother, and rubbish as a friend. But Evie doesn't need a friend. She needs her brother. And she needs… She doesn't know what.

"I have been nothing of the sort, Evie Frye, and you are well aware of the fact," Jacob finally asserts. Then, he tells her, "But I intend to change that."

"What do you mean?"

"I will never, ever let anything hurt you, ever again."

"Oh, Jacob. Don't be ridiculous. The life we lead… danger is everywhere. We're both resigned to it. We've accepted this lifestyle. These missions. We've vowed to strive for the good of the people."

"No, Evie.  _You_ vowed to strive for the good of the people. I simply followed you and enjoyed the fights I got into along the way."

" _What?_ " Evie gawks, staring blankly in disbelief.

"You've always been a better daughter to our parents than I was a son. You've always had the greater good at heart. Always strived to do better, to help others. I just… look for a good time… and stick around to make sure you don't get into too much trouble," Jacob confesses. "But I failed you. You could've died because of my negligence. And it won't happen again."

" _Your_ negligence?"

"Yes."

"In what sense?"

"In the sense that I should have gone with you. I shouldn't have let you go alone."

Evie stares, slack jawed, then finally asks, "You don't wish you'd just stopped me?"

With a heavy sigh, her brother replies, "No. I have no right to stop you from followed your aspirations and doing what you feel is right. I should have supported you in your endeavors, however, rather than simply letting you chase your dreams alone."

"Oh, Jacob…"

Evie is smiling softly as a light blush rises to Jacob's cheeks.

Without thinking or considering her words carefully, Evie muses, "You are so tragically handsome when your cheeks turn pink like that."

 _Tragically handsome._ Jacob repeats the words mentally, his head spinning rapidly as the room becomes exceedingly blurry.

"Jacob?" Evie asks, seeing her brother's look of intense confusion.

At first, he can't find the words, but when she shocks him back to reality by wiggling her fingers slightly between his palms, Jacob musters the courage to say, "And you are tragically beautiful when you smile."

As soon as the words hit her ears, Evie feels her heart pounding hard in her chest, once again swelling as though it might explode or burst from her rib cage. Feeling a similar sensation, Jacob's cheeks burn a brighter shade of pink as he looks away from Evie's piecing gaze.

 _I shouldn't say such things to my sister,_ Jacob thinks.  _But the words are so painfully true._

Evie recaptures her brother's attention quickly by threading her fingers through his soft locks of hair and stroking it. As he lifts his head, her hand remains carefully placed on the back of his head.

After a pause, she offers, "Come, Jacob. Don't kneel on the floor. Sit beside me on the bed."

Jacob can't tell if this is an order or a plea, but either way, he obeys, rising from his kneeling position, dusting off his pants, and sits down beside his sister on the bed. When she puts her hand on his thigh, he nearly jumps from being startled by her touch, but manages to hide his surprise.

"You should rest," Jacob says, after a few more moments of silence that hung awkwardly between them.

Evie lies, "I'm not tired," and smiles at him.

"Your drooping eyes say differently."

Evie huffs, but can't maintain the lie, so she simply looks up at him with her lower lip stuck out in a pouting expression. Seeing this, Jacob is suddenly reminded of all the women he's kissed, none with lips as perfect as Evie's. None of the kisses had been particularly meaningful to Jacob, but some of them were memorable enough. Most of them were forgotten in a drunken haze. But here, now… Jacob finds himself staring once more, captivated by the insistent radiance of his sister's relentless beauty.

Then, he recognizes the sentiment of longing. He wants to kiss her.

The woman's stomach drops when she finally realizes what he's staring at. For a man so hardened, his lips look regrettably soft, and very quickly, Evie is thinking something similar. But her brother turns away just in time to distract her from the thought.

"Goodnight, Evie," Jacob says, the tone of his voice colder than it has been since Evie was injured at the docks.

He stands before she can protest his exit.

* * *

Jacob lies on the couch, staring at the ceiling, picturing the image he knows he must let go of. But the fantasy is relentless, repeatedly assaulting him each time he tries to close his eyes and clear his mind. The gates of sleep turn him away continually as he tries and tries to enter their comforting haven. Eventually, he gives up on rest and sits up, pushing the blanket down to his waist and changing his position so that he is upright, leaning against the back of the couch.

"Oh, Evie," Jacob breathes. "What the hell is the matter with me?"

* * *

In the morning, after very little sleep, Jacob brings his sister a humble tray of bread with cheese and some milk.

"Evie," he says softly, placing his hand on her shoulder to wake her. "It's time to wake. I brought you breakfast."

She doesn't wake to the sound of his voice, but rather the touch of his hand, and when her eyes flutter open to find him looking down at her, tray in hand, she smiles warmly at him. The smile fades quickly when her consciousness kicks in and feels the intensity of the pain in her gut from her slowly healing wound.

"Bloody Hell," Evie curses, reaching up to cover her face with her hands.

She almost screams, but manages to swallow the sound. Jacob is beside her on the bed in an instant after setting the tray down on the nightstand, his hands on her arms.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks urgently, offering her biceps a gentle squeeze to ground her and remind her of his presence.

"No, I'm…" she starts, then feels his hands on her. "I'm fine."

Jacob knows he should let go now, but can't bring himself to pull his hands away. He's stunned by her muscles, and he now knows why he has been consistently surprised at her strength, on several occasions. He's never doubted her abilities. Following her to the docks the week prior had only been a precaution. He's always known how capable she was, but still… feeling the muscles flexed beneath his hands sends a tiny lightning strike down his spine. Only then does he release her.

"Jacob?" she asks, brow furrowed by his sudden daze.

"Yes," he replies, but doesn't seem to shake from his stupor as he stares into the piercing blue eyes that match his own.

"Jacob," she repeats, more sternly.

This time, he responds, shaking his head slightly to clear his mind.

"Yes. Yes. Sorry."

"Where'd you go, just then?"

"What? Nowhere."

"Jacob," Evie croons.

"Don't say my name like that," her brother warns, looking away.

Heart thrumming, she gathers the bravery to reach out and turn his face back to her, saying, "I'll say your name however I'd like, Jacob Ethan Frye."

Swallowing hard, Jacob visibly shivers at the use of his full name.

"Evie Elizabeth Frye," he retorts, once recovered.

His reply is slow, preceded by an embarrassing pause, and loses its effectiveness, causing his sister to simply smirk at him triumphantly.

"Now," Evie continues, after another bout of silence. "Where did you go?"

"Mountain climbing," Jacob quips, teasing her defiantly.

"You insolent bastard," Evie laughs heartily. Once the humor fades, she says, "So many secrets, Jacob. One will never know where it is you go in your mind to escape this troubled world."

 _Escape?_ Jacob is thinking.  _Hardly. It is within my mind that I am trapped._

But he does not verbalize this. Cannot. So he offers her a small smile as he reaches out and strokes her pale cheek with his thumb.

Then, Jacob chuckles, "I am a bastard, aren't I?"

Rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile, Evie watches her brother smirk back at her. Her smile fades, though, when she is surprised by the warm pressure of Jacob's lips on her forehead.

"You love it, though," he says softly, then straightens and rises from his seat on the edge of her bed. "Eat your breakfast."

* * *

The next days are long and painful, but shortly, Evie is able to sit up in bed with only a small amount of discomfort. Her wounds heal slower than she would like, but eventually, she is also able to walk around the tiny flat and move out to the main room to sit with her brother on the lounge during the day. Slowly, Jacob dares to leave her side, venturing only as far as the closest shops to fetch food and drink. Only Henry stops by to check in. Jacob refuses to see anyone else, and refuses to discuss gang business with anyone before his sister is fully healed and ready to participate in the conquests.

"London can wait," he'd told his sister. "I'm staying with you until you're well enough to join us."

She'd insisted that he continue their missions without her for the time being, but he continues to refuse, stating that her wellness is his priority, not the people of London.

He finds himself enjoying the time he spends with his sister, the kind of time they haven't shared since they were young. Just talking. Talking in ways they never really had, learning things about each other that they'd never known and never dared to ask.

"Where do you go at night?" Evie asks him one night, after a small supper.

Jacob had splurged on oranges and wine, and they're both a little drunk by the time she asks this.

"Brothels, mostly," Jacob laughs, taking a large swig directly from the wine bottle.

"Come on, Jacob. Be serious."

When he sees the expression of playful curiosity fade from Evie's features, Jacob is caught off guard.

He pauses, then replies with a shrug, "I am being serious."

She blinks at him, takes the bottle, drinks from it, then stares at him. The harder she thinks about this, trying to detect a lie in his tone, the tighter she grips the bottle in her hands. When he tries to take it from her and feels how tightly she's clutching it, his eyes go slightly wide.

"What?" he asks. "Are you really so surprised? Surely, you know I'm a sleazy bastard. You've said so yourself."

"Well, I didn't think… I…"

Eyebrows raised, Jacob presses, "Didn't think what? Didn't think that I was such a promiscuous whore?"

"No. I didn't think that you needed to lower your standards to such a degree in order to get someone to sleep with you."

She hadn't said 'a woman.' She'd said 'someone.' And Jacob picked up on this immediately.

"Someone?"

"Well… Yes. Someone."

"Do you… Do you think I'm gay, Evie?" Jacob asks, bursting out laughing.

"Well, I don't know!" she cries, exasperated and embarrassed. "I didn't want to assume! You never talk about it!"

Once his laughter fades, Jacob becomes calm and replies seriously, "You never asked." After a pause, he adds, "Would it bother you if I was?"

Evie responds without hesitation, "No."

Finally managing to pry the wine bottle from her vice grip, Jacob takes a large drink, nearly emptying the last of its contents, and tells her, "Well, I'm not."

"Alright. It doesn't matter."

"You don't care?"

"Of  _course_  not. You're my brother, and I'll support you in whoever you love."

"That's horse shit, if I've ever heard any," Jacob laughs loudly. "You've hated every girl I've been with that you've met."

"What are you talking about? You've never mentioned that you were—"

"I may not have told you I was seeing them intimately, but you certainly expressed who you liked and didn't like out of my circle of 'friends.'"

"Why didn't you just tell me who you were with?"

"Firstly, because it was none of your business. Secondly, because I didn't think it would matter. And thirdly, because you hated all of them."

"Well, then you have very poor taste in women," Evie quips, huffing and crossing her arms.

"Perhaps," Jacob muses, shrugging his shoulders and watching his sister's expression fade from mildly irritated to fully unamused. "But what about your taste in men?"

"Pardon me?"

"Your taste in men."

"What men?"

"So, you like women then?"

"What? No! Gods, you're such a brat!"

"I wouldn't care if you did, you know."

"Shut up, Jacob," Evie warns, slurring slightly and scowling at him before jerking the bottle of wine from his hands to take the very last swig of its contents.

"You're drunk," the man chuckles, smiling brightly at her. "I am certainly glad I only brought back one bottle of wine."

"What a useless brother you are, Jacob, stopping me before I'm finished!" Evie teases, her seriousness fading away.

"I can go get more," he jokes, starting to stand.

"Wait," she blurts quickly, looking panicked. "Jacob. Don't go."

With a playfully raised eyebrow, Jacob sits back down beside his sister on the couch and smiles at her.

"It's alright, love," he says. "I won't go until you send me away."

"I don't want to send you away," Evie tells him honestly.

"Good. Because I don't want to go." Jacob looks into Evie's eyes for what feels like a long while before reaching out to stroke her cheek with his thumb, saying, "I don't ever want to leave your side. I can't risk you getting hurt again."

"I'll be fine, Jacob. You worry too much."

When her brother doesn't pull his hand away or drop his gaze, Evie begins to blush slightly. At first, she dismisses the warmth radiating from her cheeks, explaining it away as a result of the alcohol, but when he shifts his weight slightly, moving his body just a little closer to hers, the feeling intensifies.

The woman's lips part slightly before her brother finally pulls away, suddenly shaken from another one of his trances.

"You should rest," Jacob says abruptly. "It's getting late."

Evie offers no reply, so Jacob stands and scoops her carefully into his arms, carrying her to the bedroom. His face is shockingly close to hers as he leans over her and tucks the covers under her shoulders. He tries to pull away, but stops when he once again notices the flawless curves of his sister's lips. As he hovers above her, Evie stares through the dim moonlight and into his electric blue eyes.

They are locked in this moment, frozen by this connection, and neither of them moves for quite some time, until Jacob suddenly pulls away, saying a short, "Goodnight," and turning away.

To Evie's surprise, he doesn't go to his bed. He leaves the room.


	3. Chapter 3

"Jacob?" Evie calls out anxiously the next morning, woken suddenly from a nightmare to find her brother nowhere in sight.

He's in the room in an instant, right next to her bed, looking just as startled as her.

"What's wrong?" he asks urgently. "Are you alright?"

She nods weakly, wiping a few tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Evie, what happened?" Jacob presses, sitting down beside her on the bed and taking her hand in his.

"Nightmare," she mumbles, grabbing his wrist firmly and pulling him down to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders.

He tenses at first, surprised by her willingness to tell him what had happened and her willingness to show vulnerability with her display of tears and affection.

"It's alright, darling," Jacob whispers, relaxing his muscles and slipping his arms around her. "I've got you."

 _Darling._ Evie blushes. He's never called her this before. It's a first, and strangely, she finds herself comforted by the warm expression of fondness.

"Evie?" he asks, when he feels her cheek growing warm against his.

He starts to pull away to look at her, but she grips him tighter and holds him against her, dropping her cheek to nuzzle it against his neck.

"Shh," Jacob whispers, stroking her hair lovingly when he hears her sniffle. "Tell me what happened."

"You died," Evie whimpers, pressing him tighter against her chest, which is heaving with shaky, labored breaths. "Right in front of me. You… You tried to save me, and they shot you, and—"

"Oh, Evie. You know that will never happen."

When Jacob pulls away just slightly to smile warmly at her, Evie looks confused and asks, "How do you know that?"

"Because who could conquer the infamous, invincible Jacob Frye?"

"Jacob!" Evie laughs, finally releasing him to wipe her eyes again. "You're such an ass."

He nods and offers his signature cocky grin. Normally, his smirk irritates her, but this time, Evie feels her stomach flip. Quickly, she notices for the first time how perfect his teeth are, and just how charming his playful smile is.

Jacob winks, and Evie adds, "And a charmer."

"Since when?"

Evie has to think about this. She's not sure when this happened. Surely, it can't be a new development. Perhaps she just hasn't noticed? Yes, that's it, Evie reasons. But as she thinks back on their history, she remembers just how many times he's made her laugh, even through the feelings of irritation he managed to foster in her.

"Since always, I suppose," she finally answers.

He cocks an eyebrow at this, intrigued by her reply, then asks, "Since when have you  _noticed?_ "

Evie hates that he's asking this and knows she has no way out of answering it.

"Since now," she then replies honestly.

Jacob sits up and smiles down at her, then tells her, "Well, I'm glad you noticed. I certainly do have my charms."

"So cocky."

"I prefer the term 'confident.'"

"Mmm," Evie hums. "I'm sure you do."

Again, her brother grins. When she rolls her eyes – but can't wipe away the smile she's wearing – Jacob raises his hands and wiggles his fingers threateningly.

"I want to tickle you so badly right now," he confesses. "Haven't done that since we were in primary."

"You want to tickle me?" Evie laughs.

"Yep. Sure do."

"What's sparking that desire now?"

"You. Just… you. And…"

"And?"

"And your gorgeous smile."

"Jacob…"

His hands find her waist, and his thumbs rub her hips lightly as he looks down at her, their matching blue eyes locking.

"Jacob," Evie says, more firmly.

She puts her hands on top of his and weakly tries to push him away, but the gesture is half-hearted. His touch is something new, and it's something she doesn't want to let go of, no matter how strange that may be. When Jacob feels her resistance, he sighs softly and pulls his hands out from under hers.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, averting his gaze.

There is a long pause before Evie speaks again, saying, "Will you take me outside today?"

This brings back Jacob's smile – the one that has begun to melt his sister's heart – and he replies, "Alright. Where would you like to go?"

"The park? Near the pond?"

"You just want to feed the ducks," Jacob teases.

"Maybe."

"I don't understand how you can slit a man's throat without a second thought, but you can't bear the idea of hurting an animal."

"Animals are innocent…" Evie starts to explain. "Animals won't hurt you, or lie to you, or leave you…"

Jacob's smile fades again, and his brow furrows for a moment before he replies with sincerity, "Neither will I."

Evie looks surprised, and she stares at him until he finally leans in and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"Go ahead and get dressed. I'll pack us a little breakfast and we'll head out when you're ready."

She wants to protest him leaving, but of course, he surely shouldn't stay while she dresses…

He's gone before Evie can say another word. She dresses as quickly as possible.

* * *

 

When Evie reappears in the main room of the flat, Jacob's face lights up.

"Why, don't you look lovely this mornin'," he says brightly. He smiles when he sees her blush, then adds, "How were your wound dressings this morning? Not too much blood, I hope?"

"No blood at all, dear Jacob. Don't worry so much."

"I'll never stop worrying about you, Evie."

"I can't imagine why not. I'm fine, Jacob."

He chuckles, "You're a warehouse of trouble, Evie Frye. Surely, you can't deny it."

"Hardly."

"Even Father knew you were wild. Like a beautiful, unbroken stallion."

"I'm the stallion?" Evie laughs. "Look at the scoundrel talking."

"Me? A scoundrel? Surely not!"

When she slaps his shoulder playfully, he bursts into a bright laugh that makes Evie's stomach flip. She has to pause a moment to recover from the sudden assault of butterflies before speaking again.

"Let's get going," Jacob suggests. "It's warmer out than yesterday. You'll only need a light jacket."

"I'm sure I'll be fine without one."

"Are you certain?"

"Of course. It's only Fall."

* * *

 

Jacob insists on supporting Evie by putting his arm around her shoulders. At first, she resists, but upon realizing that it is impossible to take steps forward without stumbling from the pain in her abdomen, she allows herself to lean on him.

The longer they walk, the easier it becomes. Of course, the effort is tiring, but the continual cramping in Evie's gut has eased up some, and she's beginning to take larger strides. Jacob watches her intently, adjusting his grip accordingly as she gains balance and confidence and allowing her to set the pace.

Once they arrive at the park, just a few blocks away, Jacob helps Evie sit down on an empty bench, then sits beside her. He offers an encouraging smile before speaking.

"I'm proud of you. You're doing well. Does it hurt to move, though?"

Evie nods slowly, not wanting to upset him but wanting to be truthful. Her brother responds with a frown of concern and understanding. He hates to see her in pain, but he's happy to see her out and about, moving more than she has in days. He's relieved to see her getting better.

But his sister has gone quiet, so he asks, "Evie?"

"Yes. Just thinking."

"What's on your mind?"

"I'm wasting so much time. I want to get back on the hunt, you know?"

"Evie... You need to rest. And when you do finally heal fully, you need to be less reckless."

"I thought you said you'd have my back from here on out," Evie says with a smirk.

"I will!" Jacob cries. "I just want you to be careful is all. Can't you do that? For me?"

The way he says, 'For me?' makes Evie melt, so she replies, "I'll be more careful, Jacob."

"Thank you," he says, resting his hand on her thigh, rubbing little circles there with his thumb.

Evie nods in reply then lifts her head, looking around the park. Ducks are gathered around the edge of the small pond in front of them, and her eyes light up when she sees them. When she stands to make the few steps towards the water, though, she stumbles slightly. Jacob's reflexes are like lightning, and he leaps from his seat and grabs her quickly, keeping her upright.

"Easy," he warns. "Go slow."

"I'm fine!" Evie snaps, startling her brother, who leans away slightly in response to her raised voice.

Then, Jacob implores, "Just let me help you."

She sighs, frustrated by her lack of independence, but drops her head to her brother's shoulder as they stand watching the ducks. When he begins to rub her back lightly, she lets out another sigh, this one a sigh of contentment. They stand like that for a moment before a burst of cold autumn wind makes Evie shiver. As soon as Jacob feels her body shake slightly, he shrugs his jacket from his shoulders and wraps it around hers, rubbing her arms to warm her.

"Jacob, I'm fine. I don't need—"

"Shh," he hushes her. "Just wear it."

She can smell him all over the garment, and when she looks down at it, she sees a splotch of her own blood near the buttons. Evie's eyes go wide, and her head snaps up to look into Jacob's eyes.

"Is that… Is that my blood?" she asks anxiously.

Jacob shrugs, replying, "Maybe."

"I'm sorry," she sighs. "I know you love this jacket. I didn't mean to ruin it."

"I was taking care of you. It's what Father would have wanted," Jacob tells her simply, confident in his words.

The coat had belonged to their father and was one of Jacob's most prized possessions.

"Since when did you decide to be so good to me?"

"Since I thought I'd lost you and realized just how much that would have broken me."

"You'd be alright, Jacob. You'd move on. You'd continue to fight the Blighters and—"

"No," he stops her. "I would give it all up. You're the one giving me direction in life. Without you, I have nothing. I'm realizing that now, and…"

"And?"

"And it's painful."

She looks at him, confused, then asks, "Painful how?"

"It's painful, because I don't know who I am without you, and I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"I don't know. Perhaps because it's true," Jacob answers with a shrug. He looks out at the water, watching the ducks for a while before asking, "Would you like to feed them now? I brought some extra food."

Evie's smile makes the muscles in Jacob's abdomen clench suddenly, and as she nods in reply, he can't seem to take his eyes off of her. She holds out her hand to receive the food that's been offered, but he is frozen, staring.

"Jacob?"

"Hmm? Oh. Right. Sorry."

He hands her a handful of treats for the ducks and watches her intently as she steps forward toward the edge of the water. Jacob stays close behind her to make sure she doesn't stumble or fall, but this time, her steps are more confident and have steadied somewhat, so she makes it the few steps to the edge of the water without need of assistance. On the few rare occasions where Evie has taken the time to do this, she has enjoyed sitting at the edge of the water, but today, she wants to test her strength and remains standing as she tosses a few pieces of food into the pond and watches the ducks gather excitedly.

Suddenly, Evie cries, "Jacob! Look! Look at the babies!"

Jacob's gaze follows where her finger is pointing, and he sees a small collection of ducklings making their way around the back side of a large log, following their mother toward the food. Evie quickly responds by tossing more food into the water, and her brother laughs brightly at this, savoring her expression of joy.

"My fearless assassin," he teases her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

 _ **His**_ _fearless assassin?_ Evie questions silently, turning to look at him. She forgets the analysis of his words when she sees his warm smile, the one that has been, for several days, brightening each passing moment.

"Evie? You alright?"

"Yes," she tells him, turning back to the ducks. "Aren't they cute?"

"I suppose," Jacob teases. "Might look better cooked on a plate though."

" _Jacob!_ " Evie cries, turning to gawk at him. "Don't say such things!"

"I was only joking, love," her brother assures her, putting his hand back on her shoulder and offering it a gentle squeeze.

Evie huffs, "Well, it wasn't funny," before shrugging him off, and Jacob responds by offering her his most heart wrenching expression, complete with a quivering, extended lower lip. "Oh, don't you do that, Jacob Frye. Good Lord. You are  _such_ a scoundrel."

He beams proudly at this, hearing the affection in her voice.

"You love it."

"Oh?" She leans in, beaming, and reaches out to pinch his cheeks, then uses her most patronizing, babying voice to say, "You're such a little cutie, aren't you? Oh, yes you are!"

"Hey!" Jacob tries to shout, his voice muffled by the way her fingers are pinching his face. "Bugger off!"

"You asked for it, you little shit," Evie laughs.

When he tries to swat her away, she doesn't let go. Instead, she leans in and places a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. Jacob is startled by the smooth warmth of her lips and stops his protest, staring at his sister. Only when she notices his reaction does she pull away.

"You alright?"

"Uh. Yeah."

He shrugs his shoulders slightly, taking a slow step back, then looks over her shoulder at the pond where the ducks are swimming in circles, looking for more food.

"I think they're still hungry," Jacob comments, gesturing to the water.

She smiles and nods, returning to the edge of the pond. Her brother smiles too, watching the woman's confidence grow. As Evie offers the ducks more food, Jacob steps back to the bench and sits down, continuing to observe quietly. He's captivated by her grace and made exceedingly uncomfortable by the involuntary explosion of butterflies in his stomach, something he's never experienced with anyone else.

After a few more minutes, as Evie continues to offer up her lunch to the animals in the pond, Jacob warns her, "Hey. Save some of that for you, okay? You need to eat too."

He means for it to sound playful, but his tone comes out serious. His sister is somewhat surprised by his concern and turns back to look at him. When he offers her a smile, she returns it, then steps back to the bench and sits beside him.

"Here," she says, handing him a piece of bread and some cheese.

"Ladies first."

"Since when am I a lady?" Evie chuckles.

Jacob teases, "Good question," grinning at her until she shoves his shoulder roughly.

But he's relieved, because she can't hold back her laughter, despite her best efforts. The sound has become an opiate for him, something disorienting and euphoric.

"God, I love that sound," the man blurts, before he can stop himself.

"What?"

"What?"

"What sound?"

"Your… I mean…" Jacob starts. When Evie looks confused, his cheeks redden, and he finishes, "Nothing."

"Jacob."

"Your laugh, lass. Your laugh."

Her eyes grow wide as she looks at him, taken aback by his confession. As he takes in her expression of surprise, Jacob sighs and reaches out to stroke her cheek with his thumb.

After a long pause, Evie asks, "Jacob?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever wish things were different?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… I don't know."

"Sorry, but I… I don't know what you're asking me."

"Do you ever just… hate the way you are, and wish you could be something else? Someone else."

"Oh… Well… I don't know… I mean, I suppose I sometimes…"

"Sometimes what?"

"It's embarrassing. I don't want to say it," Jacob sighs, dropping his gaze.

"Please, tell me, Jacob."

"I wish I was more like father."

"Oh, Jacob," Evie says softly, a frown forming on her lips. "Father would have been very, very proud of you. You're—"

"No, he wouldn't be. He would tell me to take better care of you. He would tell me to look after you. He'd be ashamed of me for letting this happen to you…"

Jacob's hand drops to Evie's waist, and he leaves it there as his sister places her hand on top of his.

"You work so hard to care for others. You have a big heart, Jacob, and father would—"

"That's not true, Evie."

"What do you mean?"

"All I do, I do because I wouldn't want to shame you or Father. I could care less about anyone else."

"Oh, come on, Jacob. That's bollocks."

Reaching up to rub his eyes tiredly, Jacob tells her, "No. It's true. I feel so empty, Evie. I care for nothing."

"But you care for me?"

"Yes," he chokes, eyes watering. "I care for you dearly, Evie. And I'm realizing just how much now."

She offers him a soft smile before resting her hand on his thigh and her head on his shoulder.

"Jacob?"

"Yes, brat," he teases, looking down at her.

"I love you."

His heart stops – really stops – and he hiccups his reply, "You too, Sis'."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Okay, guys. Here comes the smut! Hope it's alright and that you all enjoy the end of the story. Thank you so much for reading!

The healing of Evie's wound accelerates rapidly over the next few days, and she is able to walk longer distances without too much pain.

A few nights later, she tells her brother, "I want to climb. Let's go up to the roof."

"I don't know, Evie… That's a lot of—"

"Come on, Jacob.  _Pleeeaaaase_ ," she whines loudly, tugging on his jacket.

"Oh, alright," he sighs. "Just can't say no to that pouty face, can I, lass?"

Evie shakes her head rapidly with excitement, gripping his hand. She follows him onto the small balcony and lets him ascend the wall of the building first. Once he's at the top, looking down at her, she nods her head to let him know she's ready and begins to follow him. As soon as she nears the roof, Jacob extends his hand to catch her, knowing that it would likely be too painful for her to pull herself up on her own.

Once securely on the roof, Evie sits down, dangling her feet over the edge. Her brother settles beside her and wraps his arm around her shoulder.

"Just in time for the sunset," Jacob muses, looking out at the city.

The usual smog from the industrial boom surrounding them is only somewhat present, making this night the perfect one for watching the sun escape.

Evie comments, "The sky is lovely tonight," before reaching over and taking her brother's hand without looking.

"As are you, Evie," he replies, also without looking at her.

This causes her to turn her head to face him, but he stays as still as stone, even as he feels her piercing gaze blazing through him. Jacob's chest is swollen, expanding and contracting in an impossibly erratic rhythm. But he manages to maintain a calm, collected expression, at least outwardly. Inside, his heart is throbbing, making him feel as though his breaths will stop at any moment.

His sister doesn't know how to reply to this, or what to make of his words, so she simply watches him. Soon, she realizes that his tranquility is a front. His expression isn't vacant or entranced; it's focused and hard like steel, so Evie knows that he's forcing himself to be calm.

"Jacob," she says softly, not releasing his hand. When he doesn't reply or look at her, she presses, "Jacob Frye."

At last, he turns, meeting her gaze. It continues to blaze through him, burning everything in his body and making his skin crawl, and he quickly discovers the underlying cause: his overwhelming desire to touch her. Her hand is not enough, but he squeezes it and tries to pretend that this touch is satisfactory. Jacob's longing is not fulfilled by this gesture, and he begins to understand that the desire itself may be an unquenchable thirst, something quite out of reach. The cure for this fire is far beyond forbidden.

"Jacob, what's wrong?" Evie asks, stroking his cheek with the hand that is not being held captive by her brother's.

He blinks a few times, trying to gather his thoughts, and eventually comes up with the words, "I'm alright, Evie."

This, of course, doesn't answer her question, and Evie is persistent, so she continues, "Why are you so reluctant to speak to me?"

Jacob can tell she's growing flustered, and this is the last thing he wants, but he finds himself unable to speak, the words forming a knot in his throat.

"I wish you and I could grow closer than this," Evie sighs, after some frustrating silence. "As close as we've become lately, you still feel distant. You feel so… far away from me…" When he says nothing in reply, she finishes, "I'm going back inside."

Knowing that she is either irritated or hurt by his lack of response, Jacob watches as Evie tries to stand. When she slips, losing her footing as she shifts her weight, he jumps up and grabs her arm, pulling her back until she falls into his arms, rather than forward off the roof. She gasps, shocked by the fall.

"I've got you," he says quickly, smoothing her hair.

She's nearly in his lap, sitting directly in front of him, and his strong arms are wrapped securely around her from behind, holding her back against his chest. His voice is calm now, but his heart is racing, struck by the fear of her near disastrous fall.

Evie sighs and shuts her eyes, dropping her head back onto his shoulder. As he continues to smooth her hair, her breathing slows, and she begins to relax against him. The emotional walls Jacob constructs cause her to feel conflicted about their relationship. On the one hand, he's exposed himself to her more in the past few weeks than he ever has before. On the other hand, he continues to maintain a large distance when it comes to expressing his inner thoughts. All she can do is hope that the bond between them will continue to grow, and that he'll let her in soon.

"We should go inside," Jacob says, just as the sun is about to disappear completely behind the buildings spread out before them. "It's going to get cold."

"You worry too much," his sister tells him, remaining still.

"Only about you, my dear." Evie whines when he adjusts and starts to pull her to her feet, but he presses onward and scolds her, "Now, now, Miss Frye. Don't be stubborn."

Huffing in protest, she allows him to hop down onto the lower balcony and help her down next, carefully putting his hands on her waist to steady her once they're standing. This brings their faces dangerously close together, and Evie feels the burning sensation of desire, one that matches Jacob's own.

Jacob looks at her, pained but unable to tear his gaze away from her beauty. She stares back into his eyes, only guessing at what he might be thinking, until his hand reaches up and slides behind the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair.

But he pulls away abruptly and ushers her back inside.

"Go on," he says. "It's cold."

But the only shiver Evie feels is from the ghost of his touch.

* * *

 

A week or so later, sitting on the lounge, Evie addresses her brother, "Jacob… I'm ready to go back."

"Evie, no. You're still—"

"I can move freely without pain now. I'm fine."

"Regardless. It's too soon. You're still healing, and—"

"I'm going back. Besides, I'm eager to see Henry."

Jacob's lips part as he stares at his sister, his stomach dropping.

She looks confused by his expression of discomfort and asks, "Jacob? What's wrong?"

"Huh? Nothing. Nothing. I just…" Evie waits, and Jacob grows even more uncomfortable, until finally, he admits, "I just don't understand your infatuation with him."

"Infatuation? With Henry?" Evie laughs. "Hardly. He's a friend, Jacob. A dear, dear friend. And besides… What's it to you?"

"What? Nothing. I don't care. I mean, if you want to be with some cocky, kiss-ass—"

"Since when do you feel that way about Henry? You've never said those things before. He's sweet… caring… polite. Everything a gentleman should be. And he's far from cocky."

"Yeah, well…"

"Well what? Explain yourself."

"I just meant…"

"Jacob Frye. Spit it out this instant, before I get up and slap that dumbfounded look right off your pretty face."

Blinking, Jacob replies, "You think my face is pretty?"

"Is that all you got from what I just said?!"

"Well, no, but—"

"What is  _wrong_ with you, Jacob? How can you talk about your friends like that? You've always liked Henry. What changed?"

"Nothing! He's just…"

"What happened between you two?"

" _Nothing,_ Evie. I just know he has feelings for you, and—"

"Wait, what? What makes you think that?"

"Because I'm a guy, Evie! I just know!"

Flustered, Jacob sits down on the couch beside his sister and hangs his head in his hands.

"Jacob?"

"Yeah."

"What's the matter? What's going on with you?"

"I'm fine, Evie. I'm fine. I think I just need to go for a walk."

On shaky legs, the man stands and moves toward the door, but his sister reaches out her hand and firmly grabs his wrist.

"Sit. Down."

But he shrugs her off, tearing his arm away, and hurries out the door, forgetting his jacket. Evie is up in an instant, rushing out after him.

"Jacob!" she cries, reaching him and gripping his arm. "Jacob, stop."

"Evie. Go back inside."

"Don't tell me what to do! You're not Father!"

"Stop saying that!"

Their eyes are matching steel as they stare each other down, the heat of their frustration radiating between them. After some silence, Jacob realizes that Evie is not prepared to speak again, so he turns around defiantly and begins to walk away from her.

She catches up to him quickly, moving faster than she has in weeks, and announces, "I'm coming with you."

"You don't even know where I'm going."

"You're angry. You're going to the fight club."

"I'm not angry!" Jacob shouts, finally stopping in his tracks.

"Let me come with you."

"Ugh!" he cries. "Alright already! You're  _relentless._  Let's just go back to the train."

Victorious, Evie grins and follows behind him as he makes his way to the station.

"I wonder what missions we'll have waiting for us. We've been gone for quite some time. I wonder if there have been any developments with—"

"Will you stop talking?" Jacob snaps. "I'm tired, and you're getting on my nerves."

Evie sighs softly, "It is incredibly unfortunate to see you turning back into your usual self. I was quite enjoying the change."

This stops Jacob again. At first, he stares blankly ahead as he soaks in her words. She sounds sad, and he hates it. Then, he turns to face her.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"I do…" Evie tells him slowly. When he looks exceedingly confused, she explains, "You're jealous."

"What?"

"Of Henry."

"That's ridiculous."

"You're jealous of the attention I give him, and you're turning green with envy at the thought of me sharing my time between you two."

"That's stupid. You don't know what you're talking about."

"You are. You're jealous. I know you, Jacob, and I've  _never_ seen you so envious."

"I'm not  _envious!"_  Jacob howls, nearly stomping his foot like a child as he protests his sister's assertion.

"And what if I told you that I miss him? That I can't wait to see him? That he's special to me?"

Jacob's face turns red almost instantly as he stares her down. Hot tears, formed from the jealousy Evie spoke of, well in his eyes. He can hardly bear the thought of her feeling so emotionally connected to someone else. The past weeks alone with her have been the best he's had for as long as he can remember, and thinking of her throwing that away for Henry sets Jacob's insides on fire.

"I thought so," Evie says flippantly, then steps ahead of him, making her way through the busy streets toward the train station.

Jacob freezes, stunned into silence as she walks away, then finally comes to his senses and runs after her, pushing civilians out of the way as he moves through the crowds between them.

"Evie!" he shouts after her, but she doesn't turn her head.

She does slow down, though, so he knows she's heard him. He catches up quickly, grabbing her arm to hold her still.

"Alright," he says. "I'm jealous."

Evie's eyes go wide from his confession, surprised not that she was correct (that was already obvious) but that he was willing to confess such. It takes her some time to choose her next words. The people surrounding them fade to a blur as they stare at each other, trying to say silently the words that are so difficult to speak aloud.

"You needn't be," she finally tells him, breaking the tension hanging between them. "As I've already told you, he's a dear friend, and that is all. I desire nothing more from him, Jacob." He looks relieved – he certainly can't hide it – but he still doesn't move closer, so Evie adds, "Henry will never be you, Jacob."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that no one in this world could replace my dearest brother."

"I'm your  _only_ brother," Jacob huffs, crossing his arms.

Evie replies with a smile, "Exactly."

* * *

 

They walk to the train station and board the train together. As they enter the train, Jacob reaches out his hand to help his sister up onto the platform, and she takes it gratefully.

"Why, thank you, sir," she says brightly. "How kind of you."

He smirks, loving her exaggerated reaction, and kisses her on the cheek as he ushers her toward the lounge.

Once sitting, he asks, "You alright? Any pain?"

"Yes, Jacob. I'm perfectly fine. No pain."

Again, Jacob smiles, saying, "Good," and planting a chaste kiss to his sister's temple.

Evie savors the warm touch of his lips against her skin and shuts her eyes briefly. When he sees this, Jacob wraps his arm protectively around the young woman's shoulders and pulls her just a little bit closer, kissing the top of her head as she leans it back against his shoulder.

After some time, she comments, "It's good to be back. Now, let's find out what we've missed, yeah?"

When Evie begins to stand, though, Jacob grabs her hand and pulls her back down, saying, "Wait a moment."

She looks into his eyes, trying to understand why he'd want to simply sit there when they'd come all that way to find out the status of their current missions. Jacob responds to her confusion by reaching out his hand and threading his fingers in her dark hair, unintentionally tickling the back of her neck with his nails. Evie sighs when she feels this, and once again, her eyes fall shut.

"Evie," Jacob whispers. When she doesn't open her eyes or respond, he confesses quietly, "I'm so glad you're alright. I'm so glad you're still here with me."

This causes her eyes to flutter open slowly, and she looks at her brother with concern, her brow furrowing.

"Jacob," she sighs. "I love you."

His heart stops, and although his instinct is to drop his gaze to hide his surprise, he cannot tear his eyes away from hers.

"I… I love you too, Evie…" he manages, stroking his thumb over her cheek.

Jacob leans in slowly, and at first, Evie's not sure exactly why, but when he licks his lips, she realizes. But his conviction wavers, and he starts to pull away. His sister stops him, though, reaching behind his head to cup the back of his neck and pull him closer.

Then, their lips are crashing together, like water breaking through a dam, an overwhelming rush of what has been building between them for weeks.

At first, Jacob is stunned. But Evie is all hunger and want, needing to taste all of him. Then, Jacob freezes as reality crashes through him and collides with his deepest fantasies.

"Fuck," he gasps, jerking himself away. "Fuck. I'm so sorry. S-So sorry, Evie."

He can barely get the words out, but once he does, he stands and turns his back on her, taking several quick strides away from her toward the door to the next train car. His sister is on him in an instant, leaping out of her seat and nearly diving for his hand.

She grips it in an iron vice, holding him back, and cries, "Jacob, wait!"

Jacob turns on his heels and finds her lips instantly crashing against his once again, holding him against her. His arms slide around her with a will of their own, pressing her closer to him as he kisses her with newly unrestrained passion.

"Oh, God, Evie," Jacob groans against his sister's quivering lips, after several minutes of clashing teeth and tangling tongues.

There is so much he needs to tell her. So much he needs to say. But none of it is going to come out now. The only thing he can do is kiss her again, his mouth hot and needy as it tastes hers. He vows silently to taste every corner of her mouth and to worship every inch of her body, if she'll let him.

"Jacob," Evie gasps, feeling the weight of his body press hers against the vibrating wall of the train.

His weight holding her against the wall isn't all she can feel. There's something else too. Something that startles her.

His erection is pressing against her hip, straining against the fabric of his trousers. As soon as she registers this, she gasps again in surprise. But his loving assault on her lips doesn't stop, and he hungrily swallows her breaths as he moans into the kiss. Evie finds herself immeasurably grateful that his reluctance has subsided. Only when Jacob feels her wandering hands pressing firm against the crotch of his pants does he break his mouth away from hers.

"Evie, wait," he says breathlessly. "Are you—"

But she silences him with her mouth, kissing him just as hungrily as he had been kissing her moments before, and rubs the space between his legs firmly with her palms, making him tilt his head back and moan softly. His neck is exposed, and her mouth is on it in an instant, sucking on his pulse point, thirsty for the taste of his skin. When his next moan comes out at a louder volume, Evie is encouraged enough to grope blindly for the clasp of his trousers. As soon as she finds it, it is undone by her nimble fingers.

Jacob gasps as his sister's hand reaches into the waistband of his undergarments and pulls out his erection, all eagerness and confidence. He's so hard that it hurts, has been for so long, and he needs it so bad that there is no energy left in him to protest. Nothing left to help him resist his own forbidden desires.  _But Evie… Evie shares them_ , he reasons, pressing himself into her hand.  _She wants this too._

"Gods. Oh,  _gods,_ " the older twin pants, as Evie pumps him steadily, squeezing precum from the tip of his penis.

When the man's forehead hits the wall of the train just above her shoulder, Evie releases his length to run her fingers through his hair, husking in his ear, "Do it, Jacob."

Inhibitions crushed by her command, Jacob wastes no more time gripping her roughly behind her thighs and lifting her against the wall, shoving her skirt up past her hips. She knows what to do next and wraps her legs around his waist as he lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in forcefully, making her cry out.

"Jacob!" she screams, her walls stretched by his girth as he thrusts into her rapidly.

"Oh,  _fuck,_ " Jacob curses, bucking wildly, fucking her against the wall of the train.

He has to steady himself with one hand against the wall to keep them upright, as the train offers only a rough, bumpy ride that threatens to make them lose their footing. But he is so distracted by his pleasure that he hardly cares, his erection completely sheathed by his sister's precious heat. Evie feels similarly as her head falls back against the wall and her eyes squeeze shut. She bucks against him, just as wildly, roughly meeting him thrust for thrust.

" _Uuugh,_ " the man groans with his next movement. "Evie. I'm going to… Gonna…"

"Yes! Jacob!  _Yes_."

When she feels him pulsing inside her, his heat shattering her from the inside, her walls clench down, not only signaling her own orgasm, but also prolonging his. As if it will never end, Jacob continues to empty himself into her, movements unceasing, as the ripples of her orgasm surround him.

Shortly after they've finished coming, Jacob unhooks her legs from around his waist and eases her back down. Both gasping for breath, they embrace each other, sweat soaking their clothes as they savor the aftershocks of their first lovemaking.

* * *

 

The next night, when they are finally alone again, this time in their flat, the older Frye twin lowers his sister onto her bed and crawls between her legs.

"I want to take my time with you," Jacob tells Evie, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face as he stares lovingly into her eyes.

She can't speak. Everything in her body is on fire, and all she needs is to feel him again, feel him filling her, stretching her, making love to her. Fast and rough in a train car is one thing. Slow and passionate in bed is quite another.

As promised, Jacob does take his time as they undress. Once naked, he resumes his position between her firm, toned thighs. He doesn't break her gaze as he rubs his erection between her legs, against her clit, making her gasp.

"Jacob," she breathes, lifting her hips involuntarily.

He kisses her slowly, savoring the taste, and explores her mouth with his tongue. Gently, he rocks his hips forward and back, allowing his shaft to rub her between her legs without entering her, until finally, Evie is panting and writhing beneath him.

At last, she pleads, "Inside me, Jacob."

Pressing his lips firmly to her forehead, Jacob enters her, carefully sheathing himself in her dripping core. He slides in easily, and she drips and leaks all over him, so ready for him that she feels she might burst. Quickly, Jacob realizes that, more than anything, he loves the sound she makes when he enters her.

His hips move forward and back, this time with his length inside her, stroking her walls with the pulsing veins of his engorged, aching cock. This time, his own pleasure takes a passenger seat while hers remains the driver of their lovemaking. Jacob's heart races as he tries to control himself and his animalistic desire, longing to please Evie more than himself. When he looks down at her, her eyes are squeezed tightly shut, and her face in contorted with pleasure. This is how he knows that what he's doing is working.

Experimentally, Jacob grips her behind her thighs and lifts her legs slightly, changing the angle of his penetration, and she instantly writhes beneath him with his next entrance, screaming out his name.

Then, Evie moans loudly, "Oh,  _God,_ " and lifts her hips to meet him enthusiastically.

But his eyes are all love and adoration, and he steadies her hips with his hands, pressing them into the mattress to slow her.

"Easy," Jacob whispers, stroking her hair back.

Evie is panting heavily, pressing her hips up against him, but he is unwavering and persists in his slow, steady movements that are drawing out her pleasure.

"Please," she begs. "I need more."

"No," her brother counters softly. "You're going to come for me, just like this."

Again, his strong hands press her hips down, holding her still, and he moves inside her carefully, rocking his hips forward until she lets out an impassioned wail.

"Jacob," she sobs. "Please."

"Does this feel good?" Jacob teases, slowly drawing his length back and forth inside her.

"Yes.  _Yes._ "

"Good. That's what I want. To make you feel good."

But he's starting to unravel, and it isn't long before he feels the roar of his orgasm forming in his belly. Silently, he curses himself for getting there so quickly, and he does everything he can to hold back his pleasure.

Thankfully, just when he feels he might break, Evie gasps, "Jacob, I'm close."

"That's it, sweetheart. Just… like…  _that._ "

Between each word, Jacob pauses to move inside her, and on the last syllable, Evie screams and bucks hard against him, her walls clenching down on his shaft, squeezing him tightly, urging him to milk himself inside her.

And he does. His seed erupts, filling her, and he lets out a deep groan as he pushes into her once more, holding still as the last of his pleasure is poured into his sister's core.

"Fuck," Jacob gasps breathlessly, his forehead pressing against hers as his eyes fall shut. "Fuck.  _Evie_. You darling, darling girl."

Evie blushes, and her brother shifts his weight slightly, his length softening inside her.

Before she can speak, Jacob adds, "I love you, Evie Frye."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave friendly criticism. I always enjoy feedback and hearing the opinions of other readers.


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